


Devil in the Bottle

by LuckyLadybug



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's
Genre: Canon Era, Drinking, During Canon, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29958522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyLadybug/pseuds/LuckyLadybug
Summary: Inspired by XenoEmblemFTW's story Time to Remember. Crash Town era. Kalin has taken to drinking at the saloon late at night. One night Radley finds him there.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 1





	Devil in the Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> The characters aren't mine and the story is! This was a very insistent plunnie inspired by Time to Remember, a fic XenoEmblemFTW wrote of Kalin getting drunk in Crash Town. I wondered what would happen if that happened and Radley found him. I'm also using the 31 Days prompt for February 10th 2021, Under the Weather. I write Kalin as being 19 or 20, and I embrace the localizations as established in the dub of YGO Classic (it's in Ishizu's first episode in season 2), so they're in America and oops, Kalin is underage....

Radley grumbled to himself in frustration as he stormed back up the wooden sidewalk on Crash Town's main street. It would figure that he had managed to misplace an earring sometime that night. The only place left to look for it was back at the saloon. He had already tried the street, despite being sure that he'd still had it after the nightly duel. Hopefully Malcolm hadn't discovered it and absconded with it. Or maybe not him, but one of his low-level thugs had found it hilarious to take it.

The saloon was usually always empty this late at night. Crash Town didn't have a curfew, but people tended to roll up the welcome mats early around there. Radley had never been in this late. The last thing he expected to see was a black-cloaked figure slumped over the bar, resting his head on one arm while his other hand loosely held a bottle of hard liquor.

"Kalin?!" Radley immediately made his way to the bar, forgetting to even check his favorite table for the earring yet. "What are you doing here?!"

Kalin just gave a noncommittal grunt.

Radley picked up the bottle and stared at it. "Did you drink almost all of this yourself?!" he exclaimed in disbelief. When the Bunch had their nightly celebrations, Kalin usually only had one drink, if that. And that was often the non-alcoholic cactus cider Radley was partial to. Radley had gotten the impression that Kalin didn't like alcohol. Maybe the truth was that Kalin liked it too much and didn't want to risk getting sloshed in front of everyone. That sounded like him.

The bartender sighed. "It's like this a lot," he said. "He comes in, buys a bottle, and starts going to town with it. But he's never one of those happy, goofy drunks. Nah, he always ends up more serious and sad than ever. This is the worst I've seen him, though. Actually, Radley, I was thinking of calling you to come get him. I need to close up and I don't know what to do with him!"

"Well, I can't very well have him on my motorcycle in his condition," Radley retorted. "Do you have your truck?"

The bartender nodded. "I can drive you both home. . . . Where is his home anyway?"

"I . . ." Radley trailed off. "I don't know. Sometimes he's at the bed and breakfast, but it's not a steady thing. I've tried to get him to talk to me, or come home with me, and he always turns me down." A bit of annoyance and hurt slipped into his voice.

". . . I don't really like to just dump him in the street like I might do for someone else," the bartender said. "When he's the reigning champion and all. . . ."

Now Radley shot him an annoyed look. "Of course you can't do that!" he snapped. "Alright, I'll take him back with me for tonight. Not that he'll be grateful for it."

The bartender looked relieved. "I'll go bring the truck around. Thank you, Radley."

Radley grunted. "It's not for you."

He turned his full attention to Kalin and tried to pull him back from the bar. "Kalin? Wakey-wakey, it's time to get up now."

Kalin fell limply into his arms. He was almost fully unconscious from the liquor, making his half-open eyes an eerie sight.

"Kalin!" Radley snapped, shaking him a bit.

Kalin started. ". . . What. . . ."

"You've had enough of a bender for several months' worth," Radley scolded, masking his relief that he had gotten a response. "Just look at yourself! You drank almost all of that bottle by yourself! If I'd been here, I would have stopped you long ago!"

"That's why . . . I waited," Kalin mumbled. "Didn't want . . . to stop. . . ."

"Why?!" Radley exclaimed.

Kalin didn't answer this time.

Muttering to himself, Radley adjusted their positions so Kalin's arm was draped over his shoulders. Then, curling an arm around Kalin's waist, Radley tried to start walking with him. Kalin's knees buckled, nearly sending them both to the floor.

"Kalin . . . !" Radley clenched his teeth. "Walk! I can't do this by myself!" They were close to the same size, making it very awkward and difficult.

Kalin acted like he didn't want to make any such effort, but he finally stumbled and got his feet on the floor. He took a half-hearted step forward.

"Okay," Radley said. "Now keep walking."

It was more of a limp, but at least Kalin was moving. As they passed by Radley's table, something shiny caught his eye. He balanced Kalin with one hand while making a grab for the missing earring. But there was no time to fix it now; he shoved it into his pocket and they kept going.

Thankfully, the bartender's truck was waiting outside the front doors when Radley managed to half-drag Kalin through the entryway. The passenger door was open, so Radley eased Kalin in first and then climbed in next to him. "How good is he at holding his liquor?" he asked. Kalin was in no shape to do it, so Radley snapped his seatbelt into place before working on his own.

"He's good at it," the bartender said. "I've never known him to throw up."

Radley sighed. "Well, that's something," he muttered. The truck's cab was too small for comfort if that happened.

It wasn't long and they were pulling up in front of Radley's house. Radley quickly leaped out and then reached in for Kalin, who had since lapsed into complete senselessness. "Oh great," Radley said when he realized Kalin couldn't give him any assistance this time.

"I'll help you get him inside," the bartender offered.

"I could use it," Radley growled.

Together they got Kalin up the driveway and the stairs to the porch. Radley unlocked the front door while the bartender held onto the limp boy, then quickly turned on the light switch just inside the door and stepped inside. "Lay him on the couch," he directed, and swiftly removed a stack of motorcycle magazines from said couch, dumping them on the square coffee table.

The bartender did so, worry flickering in his eyes as he did. "Hey, Radley . . . you know, he looks awfully young. Do you think maybe he's even . . . too young to have been in my place guzzling down all that liquor?"

Radley stiffened. ". . . Well, it wouldn't surprise me after all this," he spat. He made a frustrated facepalm. "Ugh. I never even thought to ask him."

"Talk to him about it, will you?" the bartender asked in concern. "I know there's no law enforcement in town, but New Domino City's awfully close and if Sector Security found out I was serving someone underage . . ."

"We'd both get in trouble," Radley brusquely interrupted. "I'll talk to him about it. Don't worry."

The bartender gave a shaky nod. "Thank you, Radley. Goodnight." He bowed and quickly departed.

Radley sighed, running a hand into his hair as he surveyed Kalin's sleeping form. "Honestly, Kalin, if you weren't so good at dueling . . ." But he trailed off. He didn't like Kalin's personality, but Kalin was still one of the Bunch. He was family. And no matter how frustrated Radley was with him tonight, he wouldn't forget that. Not like his family had forgot him.

". . . You really are still a kid, aren't you?" he frowned. "What could have brought you to this place? I wish you'd connect with me. I'm not a bad guy. Maybe I could help you." But he turned away in exasperation, perhaps a bit of sadness. "You won't have anything to do with me, though, will you? Oh, here." He grabbed a throw off a chair and draped it over Kalin.

After debating with himself for a moment, he pushed the coffee table farther along and added an empty bucket from the kitchen to the floor by the couch. "Just in case. Goodnight. . . . Why am I talking to you anyway? You're dead to the world."

He started off down the hall. Belatedly remembering his earring, he fished it out of his pocket and stuck it back in his ear before heading to bed.

****

It was strange waking up after being in such a dead sleep. And it only took a minute to realize he wished he was still asleep. Kalin grimaced, a hand flying to his pounding head.

Where even was he? The last thing he thought he remembered was being in the saloon Radley's Bunch frequented. But this . . . this was a house, and a couch, and . . . a throw?

Kalin pushed it back and slowly sat up. What sounded like 1970s rock was playing in the next room, which looked like a kitchen from what he could see through the open doorway. It sounded like someone was out there too, maybe making breakfast since it looked like it was light outside.

He was still debating whether standing was possible when Radley suddenly approached the doorway, dressed casually in a tank top and jeans and holding a tall glass of . . . something. Kalin froze, staring at him.

Radley gave a dark smirk. "I'm the last person you thought you'd see, huh? How are you feeling?"

Kalin looked away. He never wanted to show any vulnerability to Radley, of all people, but somehow he had the feeling that he might have already done that in the timeframe he couldn't remember.

His averted gaze caused him to see the bucket on the floor. Empty, thankfully, but now a few pieces were starting to fit together.

Radley sighed. "Here." He held out the glass.

Kalin looked back. ". . . What is this?"

"A genuine, authentic hangover remedy from Spain," Radley replied. "My grandmother invented it."

Kalin went red. ". . . Hangover?" Radley had seen him drunk? Had he said anything he wouldn't have wanted to say? Was that why Radley didn't seem to be his usual friendly, happy self? Hesitantly Kalin reached for the glass and started to drink. Well, at least it didn't taste as terrible as the hangover remedies on television always seemed to.

"You were completely smashed last night, Kalin," Radley said. He folded his arms. "And I've tried not to pry, but I need to know something. Are you underage?"

Kalin glowered into the glass. So that was the problem.

"You are, aren't you?" Radley frowned when he didn't get more of a response than that. "Kalin . . . come on, you'll get me and Fred in a lot of trouble. If Sector Security finds out about your benders . . . !"

"They probably wouldn't like the duels to collect new labor either, would they?" Kalin grunted.

"I think what they'd like even less is how Malcolm supposedly treats his labor," Radley said. "If the rumors are true. But . . . you're not trying to blackmail me, are you? Your silence on the duels for me not getting on your case about underage drinking?!"

Kalin shook his head. "I want to keep dueling."

"And I want you to keep dueling," Radley replied. "But I don't want to be dragging you out of the saloon every night, or any other night."

". . . You didn't have to last night," Kalin mumbled.

"Fred would've dumped you in the street if I hadn't," Radley said.

Kalin leaned back into the couch with the empty glass. ". . . You're awfully protective of your duelists."

"How would that have looked?" Radley retorted. "If any of Malcolm's men had found you . . . !"

Kalin grunted. ". . . I won't give you any more trouble."

"I hope not," Radley said. His voice softened. ". . . For you to go drinking like that so much, you must be in a lot of pain about something."

Kalin shrugged.

"Most of the guys have something they're upset about," Radley said. "We're all lost souls out here."

"Then I fit right in," Kalin said. "What does it matter, as long as I keep dueling for you?"

Radley looked like he was trying to bite back a frustrated retort at being brushed off again. Finally he just said, "Okay, Kalin. If you don't want to talk about it, I won't try to make you. Just please . . . find a different way to deal with your pain. . . . And no drugs either!"

"No drugs," Kalin said mechanically.

He fell silent again. He didn't feel like moving. If he left Radley's house, he wouldn't have anywhere to go until sunset. But he didn't want Radley to know how badly he was feeling. On the other hand, he probably already knew.

"If you feel up to it later, you can have something to eat," Radley told him.

". . . Thanks," Kalin said.

"And I'll take that for you." Radley took the glass back and headed into the kitchen.

Kalin stayed where he was, staring off into space. Radley _really_ didn't want anything to look bad for him with his duelists.

Although . . . if that was his only reason . . . why the throw?


End file.
